


Chemistry Test-Tumblr Prompt Exchange

by BetweenScenes



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander (TV) RPF, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: All @shadylainey's fault, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Outlander AU, Soooo NSFW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-04-18 17:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetweenScenes/pseuds/BetweenScenes
Summary: For the April Lallybroch Library Prompt Exchange, I chose Prompt # 33:Chemistry Test:  Claire auditions for a role opposite Jamie who has been cast as the male lead in a TV Drama.





	1. Part 1

     “One more pair of plastic boobs and I’ll…“

     “You’ll do what?” asked Murtagh.

     “Is it too much to ask?” questioned Jamie as he laced up his boots. “A woman with enough confidence in her natural beauty that she doesn’t feel the need to spackle herself with makeup or submit herself to surgery?”

     “Hear, hear,” Murtagh said, lifting his bottled water in a toast. “To boobs au natural.”

     “Sometimes I think I should never have come to Hollywood,” Jamie sighed, shaking his head. “I should have stayed in Scotland, satisfied myself with working on the stage. At least there I wasn’t surrounded by cookie cutter blondes with their pouty-lipped instagram selfies.” He trailed off as he slipped on his leather jacket.

     Murtagh grinned, holding up an imaginary phone and taking countless fake snaps as he made duck lips and stuck his butt out, peeking over his shoulder.

     “God, Murtagh. I’d be able to laugh if it wasn’t so damn true. And so damn sad. I think I’ve forgotten what a normal, non-fame-obsessed girl is even like.”

     “Good luck to ye, though, Jamie,” Murtagh said, sitting down on the couch in front of the computer on the coffee table. “You were fortunate enough to get the role. Now all they have to do is find ye the perfect leading lady.”

     “It would help if they had any idea at all what Jackie Dawson should look like,” Jamie sighed as he stood in the doorway. “They can’t even decide between having her a blonde or a brunette.”

     “They just want that special something; that moment of magic. Ah, well, break a leg,” Murtagh said, not looking up from the computer screen. “Hey! Looks like I might have another audition for ‘curmudgeonly gruff but lovable friend’ some time next week.”

     Jamie grinned. “Not the leading man who gets the girl?”

     “Damn you, young fool,” said Murtagh. “I’m almost certain the world will not be seeing me kissing onscreen any time in the near future… Not that I’d want to. I’d be happy to settle for my own real-breasted woman to kiss completely in private.”

     Jamie grinned and headed down the stairs, glancing at his Lyft app when he paused on the landing. He didn’t drive in LA if he could help it. There was public transport here, too, but he preferred the anonymity of riding in a Lyft or Uber. Occasionally the driver would recognize him from his roles in other movies, but he wasn’t famous. Not yet, anyway.

     Jamie glanced down at his script. Hard to believe that a stack of paper held so much power to transform his whole life. This particular script was either genius or the dumbest thing ever; unfortunately, they wouldn’t know until they’d screened the pilot if they had a hit on their hands or not.

     Jamie had been cast in the part of Ross DeWitt Bukater, the young CEO of Titanic Corporation Limited. He wanted to think it was not just the fact that he had naturally curly red hair but on account of his incredible charisma and his chameleon-like acting skill—the way he could transform himself into another character—that they’d chosen him. However, he could still see the greed in the casting team’s eyes when he’d assured them his fiery red curls were his own. He could imagine what they were thinking—that they’d save a fortune on dye, perms, and wigs alone, not to mention the savings from having to edit for hair continuity.

     “Sony. Lot 15.” He told the Lyft driver, paging through the stack of head shots. He stopped at one of a dark-haired beauty with blue eyes and a curvaceous form.

     The actress pictured was Geneva Dunsany, cast as his fiancée Calista Hockley, daughter of the billionaire owner of the company. Geneva appeared to be just as haughty and egotistical in real life as the character she was supposed to play. At least he wouldn’t end up with her, Jamie reassured himself, though in the TV series the writer planned for more of the will-they-or-won’t-they tug of war while Ross and Jackie fell in love, so Jamie was pretty sure there would be some on-screen kissing with that one.

     Jamie glanced through the rest of the pictures. Jackie. That was the role they were still trying to fill. Jackie, the data entry clerk, unimportant and forgettable in the eyes of anyone who mattered at Titanicorps. Yet Jackie would be the one who would talk Ross off the ledge when, misunderstood by all those around him, overlooked and disrespected, Ross Bukater would consider ending his life.

     Jamie looked forward to filming those scenes with raw anticipation. It was in those moments that being classically trained seemed to help him plunge into the depths of emotion, to internalize the desperation and hopelessness a man would have to feel to reach such a dark place. He didn’t want to be disingenuous, but he couldn’t help but hope that the actress they chose would be able to hold her own in those tough scenes.

     That’s why today mattered. There were five actresses coming for call backs, this time to each have a chemistry test opposite him. Today mattered so much that Jamie had lobbied for the casting team to include the rooftop scene in the trio of script excerpts they’d do today.

     “Their chemistry…” The producers had agreed as they talked after the last failed batch of auditions. “It’s got to be like Kate and Leo. Natural. Magnetic. Instantaneous. Riveting.”

     “Not like there’s any pressure on me or anything,” Jamie groaned, slouching in the back seat and staring out the window. Christ, he missed Scotland. Here in LA with their watering restrictions and xeriscaping. He knew having yards filed with rock and cacti instead of grass saved the environment. But God, what he wouldn’t give to see the verdant green hills rising up behind Lallybroch Estates where he’d spent his childhood.

     He wondered again about the choices that had led him here. He was 34. Other people, all his grammar school friends, they were married and had at least a kid or more. What if he hadn’t left home? Would he be married by now, possibly to Laoghaire? Would they have a few snot-nosed bairns running around?

     He felt the tremor of stage fright in his gut as the driver coasted to a stop. Jamie couldn’t remember which of his teachers had coached him to be grateful for that sensation, knowing that it was his body pumping adrenaline into his system, providing the extra burst of energy to fuel whatever intense emotion he needed to conjure.

     He tapped the tip icon, patted the driver on the shoulder and said “Thanks, man” as he headed into the sound stage. This was in response to his request, too. He wanted to do the scene on a roof set. He wanted to teeter on the edge with the crash pad below him. He wanted to see what the actresses would do, how they would respond physically, not just with words.

     The casting director met him at the door. And it began, the barrage of names and faces and actresses. Beautiful women, yes, but women that he felt like he couldn’t see anything when he looked at them. Not the characters they were playing, not themselves. There wasn’t anything real there.

     Until her. Their first two scenes were good. She delivered her lines with just enough emotion, subtle changes on her face displaying irritation, humor, attraction. Her brown hair was curly, he observed, though she had pulled up in a bun. Who wore buns anymore? And her eyes were blue. Gray in some lights, nearly green in others.

     But then, the rooftop scene. Jamie stood on the ledge. He could feel his gut drop as he looked down at the crash pad. It wasn’t far, but far enough that he felt physically agitated. That would only help the performance.

     She held her shaky hand out to him, palm up, reaching toward him, her whole body plaintively begging him to stay. “Ross, you have so much to live for,” she said. Damn, what was her name? Claire? Her eyes were filling with real tears. Her chin and lower lip quivered with deep emotion.

     “Don’t make me watch you die,” she begged. “Don’t put this tragedy on my shoulders.”

     She wasn’t following the script anymore, Jamie thought with confusion. But this felt raw and real, and he quickly dove back into the scene.

     “Surely there’s one good thing left on this earth…one thing that you’d love to see again…” Claire stepped forward, her hand still extended toward him. A single tear traced a line on her cheek as she spoke again. “Surely there’s one thing, one hope, one future joy that you’ll be stealing from yourself if you end it now.”

     He turned his back to her. “Jackie,” he said. “I have nothing left. Not one thing to live for.” He closed his eyes and extended his arms to the side.

     The voice he heard behind him was no longer plaintive and calming. “Damn you, Ross Bukater!” she said fiercely. “Don’t you dare kill yourself!”

     And then, she turned away. She turned away and started walking.

     And it was an empty desperation, a desperation not to end everything but to be with her that pulled Jamie off the ledge, dragged him off and forced him to run to her, to take her firmly in his arms.

     She was sobbing as he grabbed her in a bear hug. She sobbed and pummeled his chest with her fists, so hard that Jamie nearly lost his breath.

     It hurt. He needed her to stop. But she was sobbing as she beat him, and he couldn’t, or wouldn’t hurt her. He tried to grab her wrists, but she was strong. Finally he did the only thing he could think of to stop her: he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her entire body, and crushed his lips against hers.

     She thrashed and whimpered against him, and then she responded, madly pressing her lips to his, opening her mouth to him, biting his lower lip, invading him with her tongue. He lowered her feet to the ground and released his grip on her, but she responded by throwing her arms around his neck and digging her fingers into his hair. He could feel her fingernails scratch his neck. He bent slightly at the waist, and she responded to his physical cue by wrapping her legs around his midsection as he grabbed her thighs.

     There was an air conditioner vent on the roof set, and he carried her to it, pressed her against it. God, he had a raging erection. Hell, this was embarrassing. She couldn’t help but feel it with his pelvis pressing her against the cold metal, her legs open to him. She was wearing a skirt, so the only thing between their bodies was her panties and his slacks. Christ, he should not have gone true Scotsman today.

     Claire could let him know if it was too much, but she was kissing him back with as much urgency as he kissed her.

     He couldn’t stop himself. He released her thigh and raised his hand to her breast. It was soft and heavy in his hand, with that natural give of real flesh. He groaned.

     She whimpered in his ear. When he gripped her thigh again, he overshot his mark, and his hand firmly grabbed her round ass. Not only that, his fingers… his fingers accidentally slipped inside her panties. They were inside her panties, and she was wet. God, she was so wet. He would have apologetically recoiled in embarrassment if she hadn’t made a little movement with her hips that established his hand more firmly in contact with her. And then she moaned.

     “Fuck, I want you, Jamie Fraser,” she murmured into his hair, biting his neck.

     From behind them, there was cheering, whistling, and clapping. Jamie released Claire to the floor, stunned. He met her eyes and found the same strange mix of desire and embarrassment he felt. But she smiled in a playful way that extended all the way to her eyes.

     He kept himself between her and the panel as she straightened her skirts, and then she walked in front of him back to the panel while he begged his body to calm itself. Dead things. Rotten trash.

     When they stood in front of the casting team, he found himself standing close to her. She slipped her arm around his waist. “Chemistry,” she whispered, so he put his arm around her shoulders.

     Everyone on the panel had their own thing to say. It was so real…yes, they broke script, but they demonstrated the whole range of emotions Jackie and Ross would need to express during season one. They were amazing together.

     They needed to talk, so they huddled at the table. Jamie didn’t know why they needed to discuss. She so obviously deserved the part. She’d blown the other actresses away.

     “That didn’t feel like acting,” Jamie said. “That was so raw and real. Sorry I grabbed you so hard.”

     “Same. Sorry I beat you up,” she said, lifting the front of his shirt away from his skin and peeking at his chest. “You’re going to get bruises,” she said. “You might want to buy some arnica. It’ll keep the bruising to a minimum.” She drew her hands away, her fingertips dragging gently across his clavicle.

     God damn, thought Jamie. Dog poop. Rotting kitchen scraps. Fruit flies.

     It happened so fast after that. Rupert MacKenzie, the director, pushed his chair back and put his hands behind his head. They didn’t need another chemistry test. They’d found their Jackie. The whole panel wanted to shake her hand, congratulate him, take more pictures with the two of them standing next to each other. Jamie could feel her breasts against his ribs as she stood next to him, short enough to fit under his arm. She had both arms around him, and though he was embarrassed about their interaction, he didn’t want her to let go of him.

     But finally, she did. And Rupert had a few things to say to him. Jamie couldn’t think, making excuses. He’d had a late night. He really needed to get home.

     He rushed down the stairs, begging fate to let her still be there.

     She was getting into an Uber.

     “Claire!” he cried out. “Claire, wait!”

     She turned and looked at him, bent and said a few words to the driver as he approached.

     He was out of breath, probably red-faced. So nervous that he had sweat stains on his Henley tee. “Congratulations on earning the part,” he gasped. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

     “Thanks,” she responded. “This will be my first show ever.” She stood there, waiting for him to say something.

     He was running circles in his brain, searching for any way to keep their conversation going. Finally he laughed. “That was intense. I need to decompress from that scene. Do you want to have a few drinks or go for a run or something?” He bit his lip.

     “No,” she said firmly, shaking her head, staring at him intently.

     Jamie’s heart dropped. Of course, she must have a boyfriend, a fiance, a husband. He glanced at her left hand.

     “No,” she repeated. “You’re coming back to my hotel room, and we’re finishing what we fucking started. It’s either my vibrator or you, and judging from what I felt earlier, there’s no competition.”

     “Well, then,” Jamie said, husky-voiced. “I suppose that means I’m coming with you!” He flushed and glanced around, heart racing, as he climbed into the car.

     The End?

 

  
  
image from @outlanderamerica  
  
image from giphycat  
  
image @outlanderamerica


	2. Part 2

     “Well, then,” Jamie met her eyes as boldly as she was looking at him. “I suppose that means I’m coming with you.”

     “Glad you’re doing it willingly,” she smiled. “You look a little too big to throw over my shoulder.”

     Jamie laughed as they got into the car. Claire shook her head, then sat with her eyes closed. In fact, both of them rode completely in silence, despite the Uber driver’s attempts to engage them in chit-chat. The hotel wasn’t far, just seven or eight minutes away, but the ride felt interminable.

     Claire paid the driver and Jamie grabbed her suitcase out of the trunk, handing her the backpack. “You came straight from the airport?” he asked incredulously, glancing at the baggage tags as they walked toward the hotel entrance. “No down time? No character prep?”

     “No,” Claire said, shaking her head. “I just daydreamed about it on the way here. I’d played that scene out so many times in so many ways in my head by the time I met you that it was nothing to act it out. I just… felt it.”

     “Wow,” he said, wide-eyed. “No drama school?”

     She shook her head slowly. “Just an active imagination…” she explained as they waited to be helped at the desk.

     Jamie shuffled his feet as Claire checked in, only looking up in surprise when she said “The room is for Beauchamp. Mr. and Mrs. Beauchamp.”

     “Oh,” the clerk glanced up, and then up even further as she noticed how tall Jamie was. “We weren’t expecting your husband, Mrs. Beauchamp… Did you want an upgrade to a king-sized bed?”

     Claire met Jamie’s eyes playfully. “What do you think, babe? The studio is footing the bill.”

     He smiled at the clerk, which made the young woman blush. “That’s kind of you to ask,” he said. “We would like that, wouldn’t we, love?” He put his arm around Claire, and squeezed her to him.  _God, she was soft and luscious._

     Receipts printed and keys programmed, Jamie followed Claire to the elevator. They stood several feet apart as they rode it to the fourth floor, silent.

     They walked down the hall silently. They opened the door silently. And when the door was closed behind them, they stood staring at each other.

     “I can’t believe I just propositioned you,” she said finally. “That is not me at all. I think…”

     “You’ve changed your mind?” Jamie asked, his heart sinking. “We don’t have to do this.” His calm, kind tone belied the way his body was screaming for release.

     “I want to,” Claire said. “I just need you to know I’m not demanding anything from you. I wouldn’t want you to feel…” She was blushing.

     “Pressured? No, this is fully consensual.” Jamie nodded earnestly, but then his forehead furrowed. “But, Claire, I don’t want you to imagine I do this with  _every_  actress I work with.”

     She raised her eyebrows.

     “Not even  _many_  of them…” Jamie explained weakly. “Okay,  _never_. I’ve never done this after an audition.”

     “You’re Scottish?” she asked with a smile, completely changing the subject. “I noticed what sounded a little like an accent during the scene…”

     “Aye, I am…” The interruption gave Jamie another split second for his better judgement to kick in. “Oh, lass, we’re doing this ass-backward,” he admitted.

     “I don’t  _think_  so,” she said lightly.

     “What do you mean?” Jamie was confused.

     “Well, it’s for  _science_  of course,” she said, cheekily winking at him. He raised his eyebrows in response.

     “You know  _Sinking_  is TV-MA,” she explained. “That’s going to mean nudity, simulated sex…”

     “Boobs and butts,” he responded, nodding his head wryly. “Chances are, I’m going to have to get waxed and spend hours at the gym… not to mention giving up crisps and whisky.”

     She ogled him curiously. “Really, Jamie? You felt quite firm to me.” She blushed as she realized her unintentional double entendre.

     Jamie laughed.

     “We  _will_  need to be comfortable enough to touch…” Claire offered, “so we should be familiar with each other. And I’d much rather our first touches not be in front of the camera.” She reached out and took his hand in hers, turning it over and tracing the life lines.

     Jamie closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of her soft fingertips on his skin.

     “We can take it slowly now,” she said. “Until we’re ready again, at least… Just stand there.”

     So Jamie did, as Claire helped remove his shirt, gently stroking the skin she had bruised earlier. Her fingers traced his shape lightly—the hollow at the base of his neck beneath his Adam’s apple, the cleft between his pectorals. She traced his nipples with her thumbs. She walked around to his back and slid her hands up the contours of his muscular arms, over his shoulders, and down his sides, not stopping at the waistband of his slacks, skimming over his ass. She moaned slightly.

_Originally posted by @yellowfeather84_

     “My turn,” said Jamie, opening his eyes and turning to face her.

     She was wearing a sweet little dress with a myriad of tiny buttons on the bodice. Claire did  _not_  close her eyes. She looked at him with an air of incredible innocence, her eyes liquid and trusting as he unbuttoned the dress, even smiling at him when the buttons seemed to be taking forever to unfasten. He met her eyes when he was done. She was not wearing a bra.

     She nodded, and he gingerly reached inside her dress.

  

_Originally posted by @jemscorner_

     “Oh, God, Claire,” he said, closing his eyes. She was warm and heavy in his hand, her nipple a hard nubbin centered in his palm.

     “It’s a perfect fit,” she whispered.

     Jamie was done with slow. He was done with waiting. His cock was reaching for her, straining against his fly, as he grabbed her and crushed his lips against hers.

     She was ready, too. As they kissed, she hiked up her skirts and pulled down her panties.

_Originally posted by @justfollowyourdreams_

     This time he placed his hand deliberately, slowly gliding into her wet folds, his breath catching as he felt exactly how ready she was. And the sounds she made, the wee little squeaks and low moans, the way she panted and gasped at his touch. He might have been firm before, but now he was aching, nearly throbbing with arousal.

     She touched the front of his pants, searching for his zipper, and she gasped at his size. “Damn,” she breathed, gripping the button to undo it and then sliding the zipper downwards.

     His slacks were hanging off his hips and her hand was on him, gripping him firmly. “Do you have a condom?” she whispered.

     Jamie sucked in his breath at the realization. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

     “No, Jamie. We won’t be,” Claire said, sadly letting go of him, her fingers reluctantly relinquishing their bounty. “Not without protection.”

The End…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Just kidding…_

     “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Jamie chanted, buttoning his slacks. Claire had his shirt ready for him to dive into when he’d zipped up. He thankfully hadn’t taken off his shoes, so he grabbed one of the key cards and raced out of the room.

     Not waiting for the elevator, he took the stairs down two at a time.

     The clerk was helping two customers before him, so Jamie impatiently paced as he waited. He shook his head in bemused disbelief. When he was a teenaged virgin, he had carried a condom in his wallet constantly, as unlikely as sex was to occur for a slightly nerdy, bespectacled redhead. As an adult, he was generally well aware of the times when sex was likely, so he’d learned to go on dates prepared. Generally auditions did not require a condom supply. Fuck.

     The clerk was ready to help him, yet another bleach-blonde actress wannabe, working at a hotel while she awaited her big break. She looked at him strangely as he approached the desk.

     “Jamie Fraser?!!!” she exclaimed. “You were in that movie. That one with that chick… You know, the one from SNL…”

     “Kristin Wiig?” he offered.

     “Yeah!” she exclaimed. “You were awesome in that! She must be a blast to work with.”

     “Aye,” he said, coming closer to the desk and lowering his voice. “You wouldna happen to have any condoms for sale, now, would ye, lass?”

     He’d worked so long with a dialect coach to get rid of the idiosyncrasies of the highlander speech patterns, but when he was stressed he couldn’t help it.

     “Oh, yeah,” she grinned, going back to the cupboard behind the desk and returning with a small box.

     “That’s five dollars,” she said.

     Jamie reached into his back pocket, and suddenly remembered the small table by the entry to Claire’s room where he’d stowed his keys, phone, and… wallet.

     He was going to explode. Right here in this lobby… The universe was trying to tell him something. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

     “Can ye charge that to room 411—to Claire Beauchamp?”

     She looked at him strangely, but then smiled knowingly. “Oh, using an assumed name, are you?” she grinned conspiratorially. “It’ll be our little secret.”

     She handed him the box which he shoved into his pocket. Then he began the long trip up to Claire.

     “Well, that erection is long gone,” said Jamie to himself as he stood at the door. It took him three tries to get the card to work. He was slightly surprised Claire didn’t come to open the door for him. She’d been turned on, too.

     He didn’t understand. Until he stepped inside the room.

 

 

 

_**What’s in there?** Seriously, I have no clue. Someone want to tag team this? Just kidding. I’ll figure it out. They’ll do the nasty yet, even if it kills me. #justcantwritesmut # betweensheetswriter # Claire x Jamie #Rose x Jack #_


	3. Part 3

Sooooo  NSFW.  Maybe not safe for home, either.  Yeah.  You’re welcome…

* * *

      “Well, that erection is long gone,” said Jamie to himself as he stood at the door. It took him three tries to get the card to work.  He was slightly surprised Claire didn’t come to open the door for him. She’d been as horny for him as he was for her.

     He didn’t understand. Until he stepped inside the room.

     She hadn’t  _heard_  him.

     She was on the balcony, gazing over the city.  The sun was beginning to go down, ruddy and orange through the southern California haze. What he noticed first was the glowing halo around her, a silhouette of her shape backlit by golden light.  She’d taken her hair out of the braids and bun, and the curls were tousled around her head, glinting with highlights of auburn and mahogany and maple. 

  
_Originally Posted by @Outlandercreations_

     He stared at her as she stood there, looking small and fragile and lovely.  She still had her dress on, but she’d kicked off her shoes, which made her look that much tinier.

     Jamie stealthily removed his boots and socks, pulled his shirt off, and walked out to join her. He stepped behind her, gathering her to him firmly, breathing in her scent.  He grunted quietly at his body’s response to her.  He was a young man still, but the thought had crossed his mind that he wouldn’t be able to get aroused again.  His poor cock had been on a roller-coaster all afternoon and evening, and he had feared it would just go on strike or give out from exhaustion. He sighed gratefully; neither appeared to be the case.

     “God, Claire,” he whispered into her hair, “With you in my arms, I feel like…” he grinned cheekily to himself, “the  _King of the World_.” She was gorgeous, and he did feel something in the depths of his soul, some connection, some force drawing them together.

 

_Originally posted by @asosyalbey_

     She turned to face him, her eyes lazily caressing his form from his long toes to his curly hair.  “That’s  _my_  line, James Fraser,” she said gently, reaching her arms around his waist. She pulled him to her, and her lashes fluttered wide, blinking in astonishment at what she felt.  She swore in a near whisper, “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

     Jamie laughed, gently cupping Claire’s chin to kiss her, “Well, I havena heard that one before.  And aye, my desire for you exists,” he said.  “But that’s neither here nor there.  We can take all the time ye need.”

     “It has been  _such_  a long day,” she voiced in a near-yawn. “I debated lying down while you were gone, but I would have been snoring in two minutes.  What took so long?”

     “Left my wallet on your table.  Walked up the stairs as penance.”  He paused, furrowing his brow.  “Do ye think, Claire, that maybe the universe is trying to tell us something?  Maybe we should save this chemistry for the show?”

     “And waste  _this_?” she said incredulously, glancing downward to where their bodies were sandwiched together. His erection twitched at being mentioned.  

     “I’m serious,” Jamie said. “I believe in something bigger—I dinna ken whether ye’d call it fate or providence or God or karma.  But the condom… and then the wallet… maybe the universe is trying to tell us something.”

     “I think the only thing the universe is telling us is that you didn’t plan to have sex today and you forgot your wallet upstairs.” Claire said firmly.

     “No, that’s not what I meant,” Jamie shook his head.  “More that if we do this, it’s going to set off a series of events that we canna control.”

     “You mean, that we’ll jinx the show?” Claire asked skeptically.  “Have you  _read_  the script?  It’s probably going to be terrible,” she said.  “A television show based on a tragedy that was over within 24 hours?  I know it’s about the Titanic, but they even titled it ‘ _Sinking’_? Seriously, I have no false hope about a long-running career. It’s not based on some series of eight or nine well-beloved novels or anything.”  She nodded again, certain.  “Oh, it’s  _definitely_  going to suck.”

     Jamie looked at her, eyes narrowed. “I dinna ken if I agree wi’ ye on that,” he said, shaking his head and cursing his stupid nervous tell.   _No, he was pretty sure it was going to suck, too._

     “But this, Jamie,” she emphasized, looking into his eyes.  “This? You and me?  I have the  _distinct_  impression that  _this_  will not suck. At all. Though there  _might_  be some sucking involved…” her voice trailed off and she bit her bottom lip, her eyes going hungrily to his mouth.

     He was looking at her lips, too, ripe and red and velvety.  She looked delicious.  

     Claire reached her hands up to the nape of his neck, drawing her fingers back towards herself along the scruff of his jawline.

_Originally posted by @lovemetwotimesbabyy_

_Fate be damned,_  thought Jamie, as he bent his mouth to hers and crushed her in a fervent embrace.

     They were inside the room in seconds, sliding door shut to the city noises outside.  Her hands at the fastener of his slacks, his fingers at her buttons.  

_She’d really fucking re-buttoned all those damn fucking buttons?_

     When his pants had dropped around his ankles, she knocked his hands out of her way and made quick work of unbuttoning the buttons on her dress herself. Jamie stepped back to watch her, filled with desire. She stopped when the dress was undone to her waist, not breaking eye contact with him as she slowly slipped the bodice off first one shoulder and then the other, revealing perfect globes of breasts with rose-hued nipples.  The dress hung on her hips and she didn’t appear to be in any rush to remove it the rest of the way.

_Originally posted by @apfelstrudy_

     Jamie gazed at her nipples.  He wanted to taste them.   _He didn’t want to lay down yet, but he was too damn tall_ , Jamie thought.  Even though she was a wee thing in comparison to him, she knew exactly what she wanted. She pushed him backward to the bed, whipping the covers down, forcing him to sit and then stepping in between his legs, her arms resting on his shoulders.

     He reached around her hips and pulled her closer to him.   _Christ, she had the roundest arse_.  He closed his eyes and groaned, kneading and massaging her with his sizeable hands.

_Originally posted by @manders1984_

     She squeaked, an adorable little sound.  When he opened his eyes again, her breasts were inches from his face.  He grasped one with his hand, again relishing the weight and feel of her, the way her flesh cushioned his fingers, the way he could feel her nipple hardening under his palm.  He licked his lips slightly, then took her other nipple into his mouth, gripping her breast with his lips and stroking her with his tongue.  

     She was gasping; her head dropped back, baring her neck.  He left her nipple for a moment, sampling the skin over her collarbone, licking the hollow at the base of her neck, gripping her hair and pulling her head down to him so he could suck under her ear and nip her earlobe.

     She pulled away for a moment to shimmy out of her dress and drop it to the floor.  She was in the process of kneeling in front of him, but Jamie stopped her.  “Ladies first,” he said huskily, standing, ushering her to the spot he’d been sitting.

     He knelt between her legs as she lay back on the bed.  He took charge, lifting first one and then the other leg to rest on his shoulders.

     “If it’s no how ye like it, ye can direct me,” he said, turning his face to gently kiss her inner thighs. From the lack of orders and the increasing volume of Claire’s moans, he could tell what he was doing was just fine. He parted her folds, his tongue searching out that sensitive swelling, circling and stroking her.

     His hands free, Jamie alternated between caressing her buttocks, stroking her legs and reaching for her breasts. Her squeals were getting faster and shriller, and she was clenching her muscles, her legs squeezing against him. Jamie smiled as she froze with one last cry and then collapsed, liquid and stunned on the bed.

     By the time she’d recovered conscious thought, young master Fraser had gotten a little weary from such a busy day.  Jamie stayed where he was, considering how best to proceed.  He needn’t have worried about it.

     “My turn,” Claire said, extending a hand to help him off the floor and return him to the spot where he had been sitting.  He didn’t lie back at first.  He liked watching, and she appeared to like to be watched, meeting his eyes as she licked his length.  When she had his full attention, she sucked him into her mouth, an entirely new sensation for him.

     “You’re huge,” she said, gasping and chuckling.  She’d made a slightly strangled noise as she’d taken him in her mouth. She wasn’t lying. A little attention and his friend had returned to full working order. 

     “Are ye ready for me?” he asked, reaching for the condom he’d put on the bedside table. “God, I want ye so bad. May I?”

_Originally posted by @contemplatingoutlander_

     “Yes,” she sighed, as he helped her up, gently laid her back upon the bed, and with a groan on his part and a gasp on hers, he took her.

     It was so good, so hellishly, fuckingly good.  Jamie relished the warmth and tightness of her around him, the way she moved with him, raked her nails across his back, met his eyes with a hungry gaze, and grabbed his ass, pulling him even closer to her.  When he finally came, it was the longest awaited orgasm he thought he’d ever had.  Towards the end she had squeaked, her eyes wide as he engorged at the last, and she appeared stunned to have come a second time.

     Finally they lay on their backs on the bed.  Claire was flushed, her hair spilling around her on her pillow.  She blinked her eyes several times.  It took her several tries to find her voice.  “You said, Jamie, that when I’m in your arms, you feel like the king of the world?” she asked.

     “Aye,” he grunted, rolling on his side to admire her and stroke her velvet skin.

     “I couldn’t say how you feel,” she said.  “But I am convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that I’ve just been bedded by a king among men.”

 

 

     The End.  Finally.  Truly.  Really.  :)  You’re welcome. Now where’s my husband?

      


	4. Part 4 - Sexting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you go back to life as it was when you’ve been bedded by a king among men?
> 
> SO SO SO NSFW!!! You've been warned!

_How do you go back to life as it was when you’ve been bedded by a king among men?_

This was what Claire had to consider, sitting in her economy seat in the airplane, heading home to Boston. Two weeks… That was all the time she had to pack up her life and move to LA. She hated the thought of Los Angeles. Smog and dry grass…. Traffic…

Her phone chimed, and she picked up.

 _Sorry for the last minute change of plans, lass, but we just got a much better offer from a studio in New York,_  said Rupert MacKenzie’s message.  _Would it trouble you too much to be there instead of LA?_

Claire laughed and held her phone to her chest.

 _Not at all,_  she messaged back.  _Greatly prefer it, in fact._

She felt an immediate sense of relief; New York’s vibe fit her much better after living in Boston for so many years.

Her phone buzzed. She’d turned it onto silent mode after being on the receiving end of several pointed glares.

 _Hear the news?_  It said. She felt confused. It was the number alone, not a name.

 _We get to work in NYC!!_ the next message stated.

That was followed by a string of emojis:  

 _Jamie_ , she realized. With a cheeky grin on her face, she typed,  _New phone. Who dis?_

 _Oh_ , the next message stated.  _This isn’t Claire Beauchamp’s phone?_

 _Of course it is, dummy,_  she responded.  _How’d you get my number?_

She was editing his contact information when the next text came in. It was a picture of him, handsome and sadly fully clad.  _Here’s a picture you can use in my contact info,_  he said.  _And in answer to your other question, Rupert._

She stared at his picture and blushed. Her body responded just to the sight of him. She felt so conspicuous that she glanced around to see if any of her fellow passengers were staring at her. Her behavior yesterday had been out of character. She didn’t come on to men, definitely none she had met barely an hour previously, and her entire life she certainly had never before said to a man, “We’re finishing what we fucking started.”

Her heart rate quickened as images and sensations flashed through her mind. His ruddy curls between her legs, the warmth of his tongue as he in turn stroked her softly and then hardened the agile muscle, vibrating against her more effectually than any toy.

She pictured his strong jaw, the scruff along it rough against her palm as she stood before him, watching his tongue flicking against her nipple before engulfing it with his mouth. 

Her body responded as if she was feeling the straining sensation as he sucked and nibbled on her, the dual pain and pleasure as he grabbed her firmly with his hands, as he slid inside her, filling her more than any lover ever had.

She needed him again. She needed him  _now_.

 _Are you alone?_ she texted, smiling politely at the man sitting on the aisle as she wordlessly communicated her need to go to the bathroom.

The phone vibrated in her hand as she reached the galley.

_Aye. Why?_

_I need to have you again,_  she texted, meeting the eyes of the flight attendants innocently.

 _How?_ The question came back.  _Aren’t you already on the plane?_

_Yes. But do you have Facetime?_

_Skype_ , he answered.

_Username?_

_hot.scot_

She’d entered the plane restroom when his pixelated face appeared on her screen.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered. “But I wanted to see you. And then I want you to tell me what you’d do to me if I was with you.”

Jamie flushed, but then grinned. He held his phone a distance away, scanning himself up and down.

She sucked in her breath. He was every bit as beautiful as he had been the previous day.

 _Shirt off,_  she texted.

Jamie set his phone down, and a few seconds later he reappeared, shirtless.

[Originally posted by livediamondblog](https://tmblr.co/Z9cV_o2Fil0p-)

_What would you do to me if I was with **you**?_  he texted.

 _Nibble_. she texted back.

 _Lick_.

 _Suck_.

She could see his eyes widen as the messages came in. She was also feeling flushed at the thought.

“Okay,” Claire whispered, “We can just take it back to regular phone.”

“Don’t I get to see you?” Jamie asked, frowning slightly. When she held her finger to her lips, he texted, a smile slowly growing on his face.

_I’m not satisfied with clothed._

_I want beasts_

His eyebrows narrowed and he shook his head.

_Breasts_

Claire laughed, covering her mouth to block any sound.

 _This is crazy,_  she texted.

It was. She’d already been in the bathroom three minutes. Any minute now, someone would knock.

 _You texted me first,_  came the response.

_Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to have a booty call at 30,000 feet._

Now Jamie laughed.

 _So I don’t get to see anything?_ He texted, then looked at the screen sadly.

Claire raised her phone, and with her other hand unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. She recognized the look on his face of desire and anticipation. She unbuttoned the next button, dragging her finger across her clavicle to pull the blouse away from her cleavage.

She smiled beguilingly at him. She knew she looked good. This was her best bra, the one that pushed her breasts up into perfect round heaps above the lacy cups.

She used the pop socket to set her phone on the cold metal counter by the sink, and with both hands now free unbuttoned the next three buttons deliberately slowly.

When the blouse was unfastened, she gently drew apart the sides. In the small view of herself at the bottom of the screen, she could see the faint rose circles of her nipples under the lace.

[Originally posted by jemscorner](https://tmblr.co/ZDpt_i2VZcvkm)

Jamie’s pupils were dilated, darkening the turquoise blue to navy.

 _Ah, lass_ , he texted.  _That’s about all I can handle_

_Or you’re going to see me doing something I only do alone…_

At that instant, there was a knock on the door.

“Anyone in there?” came the question.

“Uh, just a minute,” Claire answered. She quickly buttoned up her blouse, smiled apologetically to Jamie as she hung up, flushed the toilet, and ran the water in the sink for a moment. Then she left the stall, passing by a mother with a young son very clearly doing the potty dance.

Claire squirmed uncomfortably once she was ensconced in her seat again. She rotated her body and turned the face of her cell toward the window, trying to keep her privacy.

 _How in the hell do you get me so wet so fast?_  she texted Jamie.

There wasn’t an answer. Not right away, at least. Five minutes later, her phone vibrated.

 _I might ask you how you get me so ducking hard,_ responded Jamie.

_Ducking auto correct._

_Duck it._

Claire laughed outright, then smiled apologetically at her seat mate.

 _It was a foolhardy mission,_  she messaged.  _Unrealistic to think that I could join the mile high club by phone._

A silence ensued, followed by a string of emojis.

_Does it count if I did?_ he asked.

Claire’s jaw dropped in shock, though she realized if she’d had more time or privacy, she would probably have done the same thing.

 _No fair,_ she typed.  _Now you owe me one._

More emojis…

 _I’ll consider it an IOU,_  Jamie responded.  _Payable on arrival in NYC._

She flushed at the thought. Working together. Same city. More time with Jamie, this god of a man.

The messages from him came rapid fire after that. 

 _I can’t wait to see you again._  
     Two weeks?   
     Do you need that long to move?   
     Move faster. Come early.   
     I can be there in a week.   
     Let’s have some time together before shooting commences.

 _I can try_ , she texted back.

_It shouldn’t be as hard because you’re only moving 3-4 hours away from Boston._

She texted back a smiley face.  :)

     She leaned back in her seat, creating a mental to-do list. It would be easier to move from Boston to New York. She’d had herself all geared up for a cross-country move. She’d been ready for a complete change, and was hoping against hope that this was it, her chance for shaking up her life. But yeah, this would definitely be easier.  She’d be MUCH closer to Boston. So much closer.

     Then her heart sank.  _God, no. Frank._


	5. Part 5 - What the Fronk?

    She’d barely come in the door of their apartment when her phone started ringing.  

    His picture, his name. Her heart started to pound.  

_Can I call you in a few?_  She texted quickly, thrusting her phone back in her bag as Frank poked his head out of the kitchen.

    “You didn’t call last night,” he said.  “I thought I’d hear about how it went.”

    “I got the part!” she exclaimed, trying to decide how enthusiastic to be.  

    She’d spelled it out for him before leaving for the audition and chemistry test. They weren’t dating, just roommates.  They’d been good friends.  But with a life change and a cross country move, it would just be easier to cut ties.  Friends, nothing more.  And Frank had agreed; he hadn’t fought her on it.  

    But tonight he was cooking dinner.  Lasagna, from the smell of it.  

    And god, he was pouring the wine.  Already?

[Originally posted by clairelizfraser](https://tmblr.co/ZlsKah24hNI4x)

    She really became suspicious when he came out of the kitchen carrying a glass of wine for her.  He was wearing that outfit she loved—the khakis and button-down shirt.  She’d always been a sucker for a guy in a button-down shirt, especially when it wasn’tt fully buttoned.  Which was what made it so ironic that James Fraser had texted her THAT picture.  It made her hotter than any creepy bathroom mirror muscle photo would.

    “Oh, Frank, that’s sweet of you, but not yet!” she said, waving her hand to indicate she wouldn’t take the wine yet.  “I feel cruddy after a day of flying.  I think I’m going to go take a shower.”

    She smiled gratefully at him before she turned her back to him and walked down the hall.  But she’d barely gotten inside her room when her finger was on her phone, finding Jamie’s number, tapping the green phone icon.

    “Pick up, pick up,” she begged, and was rewarded when a deep voice answered.

    “Aye?”

    “I’m alone, and I’m going to take my clothes off,” she murmured. “What do you want to do to me?”

    “Jamie!” a gruff voice called out, nearly blasting her eardrum.  “Someone you’ve named ‘my future wife’ on your phone just called you! And she says she’s going to be naked soon and wonders what you would like to do to her?”

    “Murtagh, you fuckin’ bastard.  Why did you answer my phone?”  Another deep voice, the voice she’d expected to answer the first time approached. “Damn you, man, gaaaaaah!”  He ended his tirade with a tortured sound, and then she heard the crackling sound of the phone changing hands, loud footsteps, and a door slamming shut, as well as somewhat heavy breathing on the other end of the line.

[Originally posted by thebookboyfriendharem](https://tmblr.co/Zy-vzj255jAnG)

    She was confused.  She was mortified.  She was curious.

    “My future  _wife_?” she asked.

    “You’re going to be  _naked_  soon?” he said.

    Silence.

    And then she giggled and he laughed and all was well.

    “I don’t  _have_  to be naked,” she said.

    “And you don’t  _have_  to be my future wife,” he added. “God, that was embarrassing.”

    “I’m beyond mortified,” she said.  “Was that your father?”

    “Godfather, more like,” Jamie answered.  “Thankfully. He’s the one who told me about sex, bought me my first condoms.  You didna horrify him.  He was chortling away when he handed the phone off to me.”

    “I expected as much,” she said. “Well, maybe we should talk later.”

    “Why can’t we talk now?” Jamie asked.  “I’ve missed you today.”

    “I saw you like, eight hours ago when you dropped me at the airport,” Claire responded, shaking her head as she kicked off her flats and lay down on the bed.

    “Yes, but we’ve barely gotten to know each other,” Jamie said.  “Except, you know, in the biblical sense.”

    Claire laughed.  “Well then, Jamie, what would you like to know?”

  

_She looked different_ , Frank thought.   _Brighter, somehow.  Alert_.  He didn’t know if that boded well for his plans for the night or not.

    After all, they’d had the talk.  They were apartment mates.  Sometimes more when they’d been drunk or bored, or when they watched that one show together where she got worked up at the sight of that one actor—'the ginger giant’—as Frank called him. But they never slept in the same bed, and there were no assumptions, no presumptions.

    But he  _had_  presumed he would sleep with her tonight. He knew what she liked.  Italian food, French bread, which she knew she couldn’t have often or she’d ruin her model-perfect body.  French wine.  

    And the offer of a back rub. She was so tired, after all.

    And after he massaged her shoulders for a while, she might moan a little, might sigh, “God, that feels so gooooood,” and then she’d take her shirt off.  Bra on, of course.  It just felt better with bare skin.  And he’d continue the massage but increase his range.  Shoulders, but then down the arms.  Spine, but then down her sides, down toward her hips.

    And then he’d say, “We’ve got the massage oil—would you like that?”

    She would nod, and she’d lie down.  On the carpeting in the front room, or if he was lucky, on the bed.  

    She didn’t want the massage oil to get on her lacy bra, of course, so she’d take it off and toss it away, and he’d see the sweet swell of the side of her breast as she lay back down.

    If he did that well, she might say, “God, I had a rough week.  Do you think you could do my legs?”

    Of course he would agree, and turn his back like the gentleman he was, and she’d pull off her shorts or jeans or skirt or leggings and lie down in her adorable panties.

    He had to play dumb with Claire.  He couldn’t make the first move, or she’d be off like a shot.  He had to wait.  

    Until she spread her legs wider and arched her back slightly which rounded her ass.  He would have to wait until he massaged up her inner thigh and her breath caught.

    If she sighed, “Oh, Frank,” he knew she was close.

    And if she rolled over, revealing the perfect slope of her breast, he knew he’d made it.

      God, he was hard right now. He wished he was brave enough to go into her room and join her in the shower.

    But the way she’d looked at him when he reached his hand out holding the wine, a chill had cut through his heart.

    It was really, truly, over now. Claire had fallen in love. And not with him.

[Originally posted by outlander-starz](https://tmblr.co/Zihz9r24peGLl)

    Claire wasn’t in the shower. She was still on her bed, her phone to her ear, laughing at Jamie’s story of growing up in Scotland. Being a naughty boy in Catholic school.  The nun who rapped his knuckles with a ruler.  Serving as an altar boy.

    And he was laughing at her stories of snow days in Boston when school was cancelled, sledding and snowball fights and kissing Max Jensen out behind the tool shed.

[Originally posted by fantasticintotality](https://tmblr.co/ZLwFkm2X-egPB)

    And as they talked, Claire’s eyes grew heavier and heavier, til finally she sighed and told him she was going to fall asleep.

    “Get ready for bed,” said Jamie.  “Nighty. No undies.”

    At his words, Claire felt more alert. Her heart thumping almost audibly, she did as he instructed.

    “Can I see?” he asked.

    She hit the Skype button and saw his beautiful face, blue eyes shining as he looked at her.  She shyly held the phone so he could see her, the light blue chemise with thin satin straps.  She showed him her bed with its white covers, elegant head board and foot board.

    “Okay,” said Jamie. “Now I’m going to tell you what to do.” His voice was low and husky.

    “Yes?” Claire asked, her voice tremulous.

    “Go to sleep.”


	6. Eau de 'Someone's Getting Laid Tonight'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire & Jamie finish what they started... NSFW

 Her text had said “Can I call you back in a few?”

     _How long is a few?_  Jamie wondered as he set his phone down, looking in the bathroom mirror.  _Damn, what a night._

    He headed toward the kitchen to give Murtagh the news.

     “New York City?” Murtagh glared at Jamie from under bushy eyebrows.  “First ye sleep elsewhere last night with not a word, no’ even a text, and now you’re moving across the country?  Is this the way to treat the man that practically raised you? How am I supposed to afford this damn flat on my own, you wee puppy?”

[Originally posted by outlanderin](https://tmblr.co/ZEpzFh27D489t)

    Jamie stared at his godfather.  He hadn’t thought of anything but Claire in the last 18 hours. Even now he had visions of her body, her soft lips, her perfect breasts.

 

     “Where were you last night?” Murtagh growled.

     “I’m 34, dammit,” Jamie said with a half smile.  “Do I have to ask for permission to have a sleepover like I did when I was ten?”

    Murtagh’s eyebrows lifted and a grin crossed his weathered face.

     “What’s the lass’s name? Will I get to meet her?”

     “Claire… And not unless you come to New York.”

    Murtagh huffed grumpily and stomped off to the bathroom.

    Jamie was leaning against the kitchen counter flipping through the file of head shots of auditioning actresses he’d been given, desperately hoping to see Claire’s face again when he heard Murtagh yell.

     “Jamie!”

     “What?” he yelled back. “Is the toilet paper out again?”  _I swear, for being my godfather, there are times he seems like he’s my bairn instead_ , he muttered under his breath, heading toward the bathroom.

    Murtagh was standing in the doorway, holding out a phone toward him. In reaction, Jamie’s hand went to his pocket.  

     “Someone you’ve named ‘my future wife’ on your phone just called you!  And she says she’s going to be naked soon and wonders what you would like to do to her?”

     _What I wouldn’t like to do to that bastard Murtagh,_ Jamie fumed as he grabbed the phone from him and walked into his bedroom. Christ, he hoped she wasn’t too embarrassed.  It wasn’t the first awkward moment between him and Murtagh, but she wouldn’t know _that._

 

     Claire was adorable on the phone, especially her easy laugh and infectious giggle. If Jamie thought he’d fallen for her before, an hour on the phone with Claire and he was even more certain he wanted her to be his wife.  _If_  she’d have him, of course.

     Jamie had anticipated a continuation of their earlier conversation, so he wasn’t sure what made him tell her to go to sleep when she started yawning. He had a tremendous urge to take care of her, and that included foregoing phone sex if she needed sleep.

     “That’s not a good idea,” Claire stated. “For you to wake me up like that and then send me to bed.”

     “Why not?”

     “I hadn’t mentioned  _Frank_ ,” she said.

    Jamie’s heart dropped.

     “He’s my semi-platonic roommate,” Claire explained.  “And he made lasagna, he’s pouring wine, and he reeks highly of Eau de ‘ _Someone’s Getting Laid Tonight_ ’.  I’m tired, but I’m also horny, and I don’t know if I can fight off advances if I feel like this.”

     “Well, then,” said Jamie.  “I’m locking my door.”

     “Already done,” Claire responded.  

     “I’d start,” he said huskily, “by standing behind you.  Feeling you, silky and smooth against my skin.”

     “Mmmmm,” hummed Claire.  “Are you naked?”

     “Silk boxers,” he responded.

     “Then what?” she encouraged.

     “Will you be my hands for me?” He asked.  “Tell me what I feel when I run my fingers down your arms.”

    There was a brief pause and a slight intake of breath on the other end. “Soft skin, but my hairs are standing up because I have goosebumps.”

     “What about when I slide my hands down your sides and up your belly to cup your breasts?”

     “Oohhh,” she gasped.  “Cool satin. You feel the jut of hip bones, and a soft little pad of fat on my hips, then the give of my lower abdomen, my ribs and the warm heaviness of my breasts.”

    Jamie groaned, longing for it to be true. “Stroke your hair aside, and caress your neck,” he whispered.  “Those are my lips on your skin.”

    Claire sighed.

     “Now,” said Jamie, “Lick one finger and stroke your neck again.  That’s my tongue.”

    Another sigh was his reward.

     “Now,” he said, “I slide the strap off your shoulder, while I pinch your nipple with my other hand.”

     “It’s getting firm under your touch,” Claire said, her voice strained.

     “Damn, I wish I was there,” Jamie groaned.  “I’m jealous of imaginary me.”

     “Don’t stop,” Claire urged.

     “Will the chemise come off over your hips?” Jamie asked.  “I’m taking it off you now.”

     “It fell to the floor in a silken puddle,” Claire said. “I turn to you.”

     “Not yet,” Jamie responded.  “I press myself against you, and you feel my chest against your back, as I cup both breasts in my hands and stroke circles around your areolas.”

     “Areolas?” Claire laughed.

     “My ma taught me the correct vocabulary,” Jamie said.  “Are you finished? Totally done with this? Because now is not the time to debate my word choice.”

     “Sorry. Definitely not,” said Claire.

     “What do you feel?” he asked, as he heard her squeak and then give a whining sigh.

     “A pucker of flesh, with a warm, firm hillock in the center.”

     “God,” groaned Jamie.  “If I was there I’d turn you around and take your nipple in my mouth.”

    Claire gasped.  “Fuck, Jamie, when you said that, my body reacted like you’d actually done it.  Like, I spasmed inside.”

     “Excellent,” Jamie laughed.  “My body is responding as if you’re close to me, too.  Now, are you lying down?” Jamie asked.

     “No, I’m still standing,” she said.

     “Are you cold?” He asked.  

     “A little,” she answered.

     “Then get into bed,” Jamie ordered.

    A silence with a small amount of rustling told him she had obeyed.

     “How do you like to be touched?” Jamie asked.

     “Smooth, gentle strokes at the first, and then harder and faster,” Claire whispered.

     “Do it,” he said.  “Focus on what feels good.  Lay your phone beside you and imagine I’m there.  And don’t try to be quiet.  I want to hear you come.”

    The cries and murmurs from the phone drove Jamie to distraction.  He’d been so horny when they sexted during the flight that he’d taken care of business, but he was as hard as a rock now.

     “Can I come with you?” he asked quietly.

     “Do you have lotion?” she suggested. “I’m warm and tight and slippery around you.”

    On opposite sides of the country, the two joined together in pleasure, each imagining the other next to them, in and around them.  As if they were together, their joint breathing increased, until Claire cried out, “Yes, Jamie, harder, don’t stop… Yes!” just as Jamie panted, “Claire, oh god, Oh Claire…”

     Afterwards, they rested, breathing on the phone.

     “Claire?” Jamie spoke quietly.

     “Yes?” she responded.

     “I know it’s too early for the other, but I’m just going to say that I really really really truly like ye.”  His heart was pounding.  He could have said love and he would have meant it.

     “Well, Jamie, I really really really truly like you, too,” she breathed back.

[Originally posted by jemscorner](https://tmblr.co/ZDpt_i2L2Qalp)

    Frank was fuming.  He’d made her goddamned lasagna.  From scratch.  She said she was showering, but it had been an hour and a half and all he’d heard was laughter coming from her room, not the sound of water running.

    As he put his ear to her door, he heard her gasping.  “Yes, Jamie, harder… Don’t stop.” Frank felt embarrassed, but he couldn’t help but stay through her final panting cries.  

    He slipped his hand down and opened his fly.

    Frank was determined about two things that night : He was going to get his release even if he had to take care of it himself, and he wanted to murder a guy named ‘Jamie.’

 


	7. Laughing Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie are meeting up in the Big Apple!

Jamie was nervously fidgeting, tapping the fingers of his left hand against his khakis. He hadn’t touched the steaming coffee he held in his right hand, but the ridged black container at least gave him something to feel with his fingertips, something to focus on.  He found it ironic that Claire had chosen to meet at Laughing Man coffee.  This ache in the pit of his stomach wasn’t funny at all. She was  _late_.

[Originally posted by thebookboyfriendharem](https://tmblr.co/Zy-vzj2PWIt3k)

He glanced at his watch again.  She’d said 10 am.  She’d said Laughing Man Coffee, she’d said Tribeca.  She’d said they would walk to the 9/11 memorial afterwards, which seemed somewhat grim for their long-awaited reunion.  

But because  _Tanked_ , no, wasn’t it called  _Sunk?_   _Sinking?_  Dammit, he really should know the name of the TV show he was going to be starring in.  Anyway, their show was going to be set in downtown New York.  The studio had rented half of the 17th floor of some skyscraper for filming the office scenes, and there were going to be ferry scenes as well, an homage to  _Titanic_ , so they would be able to see the poo-brown Hudson from the windows every day as they filmed.

As far as he knew there weren’t any accidents on the Hudson in the script.  He really hated traveling by boat, but ferry was tolerable… As long as there weren’t any accidents.

Still, where the fuck was she?  He looked at his watch again.  He didn’t want to be an ass and call her repeatedly, but really, where could she be?

Just then his phone buzzed.

 

__

_Laughing Man Coffee?_  she asked.

He snapped a picture of the sign and sent it.

_North End Street?_  she texted.

Jamie craned his neck to see the street name.  

_No._ _Duane Street,_ he texted.

_Right by the Hudson?_   she asked.

“Damn!” exclaimed Jamie, hitting dial and putting his phone to his ear.

“I should have called earlier!” Claire exclaimed when she answered the phone.  “I’ve been waiting for you, thinking you stood me up!” The disappointment and confusion in her musical voice was palpable, and Jamie’s protective instinct added to the agitation already in his gut.

“I’d never, Claire,” Jamie insisted. “Here I was thinking you were late, or didn’t want to see me, or you’d decided not to be in the show…  Is Laughing Man a chain, like Starbucks, with one on every corner?”

“I guess,” she said.  “I didn’t realize!”

“I’m putting you on speaker,” Jamie said.  “I’ve got to get Google maps up.”

“Don’t mind if I don’t talk for a minute,” Claire said.  “I’ve got a map app out as well.”

Shortly, Jamie heard a peal of giggles, which instantly triggered a deep sigh of relief on his part. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath.  

“Let’s meet at Chambers and North End,” Claire said.  “It looks like you may have to cross the Tribeca pedestrian bridge.”

“So you’ll be walking north on North End?” Jamie asked.  “Got it. Think I’m going to hang up now.”

_This is why I run to stay fit_ , Jamie thought, as he tossed his untouched coffee in a trash can and jogged down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, trees, and gawking sightseers. It was like the start of a marathon, he thought, when bodies were packed together and you could barely trot, let alone walk or jog.

Google had said 11 minutes walking.  To hell with walking.

[Originally posted by thebookboyfriendharem](https://tmblr.co/Zy-vzj2Mwthpx)

He saw her on the opposite side of the road walking toward him once he was heading south on North End. There were two lanes of traffic with a treed divider between, so he took his life in his own hands and dashed across first one lane to the divider and then the other, arriving in front of Claire two minutes later, panting, out of breath, and sweaty.

And then they stood there, looking shyly at each other.

* * *

It had been one night, two weeks ago.  A passionate, magical, record-breaking night.  At least for Jamie.  He didn’t think he’d ever done it three times in one night before.  They’d fallen into bed after the second time and slept, sprawled on the king-sized mattress.  Even though he was tall, this bed actually fit all 1.93 meters of him.  And adorable Claire, petite but curvy with an amazing ass, was stretched out on the other side.  

When he woke up, somehow the two of them had maneuvered in their sleep until she was curled up in the curve of his body, his abdomen contacting her back, her legs against his thighs, her shoulder blades against his chest.  And that phenomenal, round, luscious bum was backed up against him.  She had wriggled in her sleep—or maybe she wasn’t asleep—and scooted herself even closer to him.  And suddenly Jamie realized that wee Jamie was not so wee now.  

And then Claire moaned, “Mmmmm.” She had reached back, gently took hold of his arm, and running her fingers down his forearm, urged his hand around until he was cupping her breast, scooting her body backward until he could easily have entered her with one thrust.

But as a gentleman, he reached into the little box for the third condom.  And as a generous lover he took his time, kissing her back, caressing her breasts, and then reaching down between their bodies, tracing the shape of her, then gently exploring to see if she was ready.  She  _was_.  

She was seaweed and his fingers were the Silkes at play in the kelp beds off the shores of Scotland. He continued until the ocean waves churned madly and then fell calm, and Claire murmured, “God, that was good. Come in.  I want you inside me.”

[Originally posted by weareheadoverfeels](https://tmblr.co/ZXiect1-MvrU1)

 

 

Today Jamie made the first move, holding his arms out to her, his face a question. “Seems like we should at least hug,” he said.

She drew close to him and they sandwiched their bodies together, leaving  _absolutely_  no room for Jesus, though Claire  **did** mention him.  

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” she exclaimed, then whispered, “Do you ever NOT have an erection?”

[Originally posted by fuckyeahjamieandclaire](https://tmblr.co/ZcZuUr2Rlwzc2)

“When I’m away from you, plenty of times.  And I can get it to go away if you wish. By thinking of dead things… or my grandmother.”

“Or the nuns at school who beat you with rulers?” Claire giggled as she pulled away from him, forcing Jamie to shepherd his thoughts toward the disgusting.

At the word “nuns” Jamie breathed in through his teeth with a hiss.  “Oh, no. Dinna mention them.  I spent many a pleasant hour in school imagining what they looked like beneath their habits.”

Claire shook her head smilingly and took his hand.  “So you live in this part of town?  Will you show me your place?”

He had thought she would never ask. The studio had found the apartment. It was a wonder that they’d been willing to spring for it, a place with an actual bedroom and a bathroom and a kitchen and living room.  Four-hundred square feet, they’d said.  It was tiny, certainly, but there  **was** a bed. And right now, that was all that mattered.

They caught the bus, rode it for ten minutes and got off at the nondescript red brick building.  Jamie used his key to get in the main door—there was a buzzer for guests to be let in, which Claire had pressed just to be silly.

Jamie felt his hands sweating as he climbed the three flights of stairs, following Claire. She was short, so if he walked four steps behind her, it put her at the perfect height to mesmerize him with the movement of her hips.  He wanted to grab her and take her right there on the stairs.

But again, ever a gentleman, Jamie ushered her to his apartment door, unlocked it, turned the knob,

And was met with a foul stench and a cloud of smoke.

And a gruff voice that grumbled, “I meant to make ye dinner, Jamie, but I managed to burn the haggis.”

Jamie coughed, waving smoke away, and then turned to Claire.  

“Claire,” he said.  “Meet Murtagh.”

[Originally posted by lenny9987](https://tmblr.co/ZGvI-p2TGSZus)


	8. C***-Blocker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh what a tangled web we weave....when we tell a story about Claire and Jamie as Cait and Sam trying out to be Leo and Kate in a gender-reversed TV show based on Titanic when Claire’s a little bit of a stalker because she used to watch and lust after Jamie (like you and I currently do with _Outlander_ ) when he starred on a non-existent series based on my current book _Island Fever_. Confused? Read on!!!

## Lallybroch Library Prompt Exchange!

_**Prompt #33 Modern AU:** Claire auditions for a role opposite Jamie who has been cast as the male lead in a TV drama._

* * *

 

 

 

     “Murtagh, man, I love you.  But why in hell are ye here?”

    The walls were thin and Claire could easily hear the heated conversation from within the bedroom, even though they had closed the door behind them.  She sat gingerly on the couch, looking around the small apartment.

[Originally posted by ladyenys](https://tmblr.co/ZSXZas2X5oL8E)

    It was neat and clean except for the suitcases and backpack next to the door; those must be Murtagh’s.  Once Jamie had rushed around opening all the windows, the smell of burnt haggis had dissipated, only to be replaced by the smell of city—exhaust, ancient brick, and sadness.  

     “Your landlady is quite a lonely woman.” It was Murtagh’s gruff voice speaking. “She talked my ear off, but she was more than happy to let a godfather into his godson’s apartment.”

     “Why didn’t you call? Or simply mention you were coming?”

     “I ken how much you love a surprise!”

     “A birthday party, maybe… or a gift,” Jamie said incredulously.  “Not an extra inhabitant for my already too small apartment, especially when…”

    Claire heard Jamie drop his voice, but it wasn’t low enough. She blushed as she heard his words.

     “God, man, do you see her? I’ve been anticipating being with Claire again for weeks!”

     “Oh, aye, she’s nice to look at.  But Jamie, lad, I couldna imagine you being here for months or years and not coming with you!”

From [@outlanderamerica](https://tmblr.co/mOXC5akmaIssKGDVXA2z1DA)

“But why does it matter if I’m here this morning? Were ye planning to bring her inside and immediately tear off each other’s clothes? God’s tooth! It’s not even noon yet!”

    Claire chuckled.  As embarrassing as their first encounter had been, she had managed to develop some affection for Murtagh in the last two weeks as she and Jamie talked daily; hearing his gravelly, acerbic voice making comments in the background of their calls, learning of his dry humor from his godson’s descriptions, feeling grateful for the role he’d played in parenting when both Jamie’s mother and father had died while he was still a teenager.

     “I canna say what would have happened. But Murtagh, I haven’t been able to make love to Claire in  _two interminable weeks_!”

    Claire blushed. They’d felt such a connection immediately, instantly.  Her heart leapt on hearing Jamie call it making love.  Not having sex, not shagging, not fucking, not doing the rumpy-pumpy, not bonking…

    He wanted to  _make love_  to her. She couldn’t wait for it either.

* * *

    Of course, what Jamie  _didn’t_  know was that Claire Beauchamp had been his fan for far longer than he’d known her, an admirer from afar.  It was two or three years ago that she’d found that little gem–the TV-MA show he’d done when he was in his late twenties.

    Frank kept asking her why she repeatedly watched the three seasons of Island Fever.  Claire lost herself in the story of a young woman, ironically named Carlie, who traveled out to the Marshall Islands as a volunteer nurse. Immersed in a foreign culture where Carlie was a fish out of water, she floundered. And then Carlie met, made friends with, and fell in love with a young man named Campbell, played by none other than James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser.

    God, she’d fallen in love with him just as the young actress in the role of Carlie had, this lean, muscular, tanned Scotsman, with that furiously curly red hair.  Jamie Fraser wasn’t an Ed Sheeran red-head… Not pale and orangey.  His hair was closer to burgundy, and he was rugged and manly even when he was playing a 22-year-old adorably devoted virgin.

[Originally posted by loulys](https://tmblr.co/ZPFPrd2X97mps)

    Her favorite episode in season 1 was “Restraint,” where the young couple were engaged and still trying to wait.  It was crazy how sexy  _not_  having sex could be.  

    Although Frank hated how many times she rewatched  **Island Fever** , his eyes would brighten if he came into the room and saw her viewing that scene where Campbell and Carlie walk out to the beach at dusk shortly after their surprisingly sudden engagement. Those were the nights where Frank was  _guaranteed_  to get some, even though Claire was certain that he’d known the truth–that even though he was with her, she was with  _Campbell MacReid_ …

[@frockflicksfeed](https://tmblr.co/mRltrCCLuQF0SXnaLMhn9_Q)

    Even now, Claire felt sheepish yet aroused at the memory of Jamie’s perfect ass in the honeymoon episode as he gently undressed his new bride. She was lovely too—god, what was her name? Claire had often imagined  _herself_  standing before him as he knelt, kissing her belly, running his hands over her hips and drawing her lacy panties down to the floor.  She pretended it was she to whom Campbell said, “What would you like?” as he lay next to her on the bed; that it was  _her_  body that made his eyes widen in discovery and darken with desire; that  _she_  was the one blissfully blinking in surprise, not expecting a virgin to know enough to bring her to climax their first time together.

    And she teared up almost every time that Campbell smiled at Carlie and said, “Virgin blood,” as he drew the blade of his fishing knife across his thigh and reached for the nuknuk.

    But it was Jamie Fraser, not Campbell MacReid, that Claire started to admire as she watched interviews with the actor on YouTube.  He was thoughtful, kind, and protective of his co-star.  A gentleman who ushered her out of cars and was her constant cheerleader.  That was when Claire had started to wish she could meet this man she had long admired. So when there was open casting and she sent in her audition tape and got a call back, she started to think that it was fate.

     As if it was fate, Jamie had responded to her with equal enthusiasm, on one wild, romantic night.  He wanted to make love to her.

    Suddenly Claire had an anxious thought.  A few months from now and that would be her nude body in front of the camera.  With him.

    On  _camera_? Touching him? Kissing him? On  _camera_? For the world to watch?  Her heart dropped and she felt slightly nauseated.

[Originally posted by manders1984](https://tmblr.co/ZK76Um2RlMXc8)

     The men were STILL talking.

     “So if I understand this correctly, you were thinking young Jamie needed an outing?”

     “God, Murtagh.”

     “You were gazing at her round arse and thinking you needed to inspect it further?”

     “You make me seem a lecher!”

     “And then you came to your apartment, fully expecting to be naked in minutes…”

     “Hush, man!”

     “So that explains why you’ve greeted your godfather so rudely?  Embarrassed me in front of the lass? Dragged me into the bedroom as if I’m a wee lad about to get skelped?”

[Originally posted by alwaysalir](https://tmblr.co/ZAQWDo28nuPob)

* * *

      She knocked hesitantly on the bedroom door.

     “Since I can already hear your whole conversation, don’t you think you might as well come out and sit comfortably?”

    Both men stepped out sheepishly.

     “I didn’t want to reunite with you just to lose you immediately to an argument,” she said, directing her gaze at Jamie. “And it’s probably best that we didn’t just fall into bed right away,” she added, smiling at Murtagh.  “Since the haggis is burned, since it’s just around noon, don’t you think the three of us should go out for lunch?”

    Murtagh nodded and Jamie smiled at her.  But Claire shuddered involuntarily at the look on Jamie’s eyes.

    She used to  _imagine_  that expression of desire and admiration directed at her.  But  _this_  was  _real_.

[Originally posted by jesuisprestoutlander](https://tmblr.co/ZnU9Mb2Vsetk8)

* * *

How’s that for convoluted? In a story about Claire and Jamie as Cait and Sam trying out to be Leo and Kate in a gender-reversed TV show based on Titanic when Claire’s a little bit of a stalker because she used to watch and lust after Jamie (like you and I currently do with Outlander) when he starred on a non-existent series based on my current book. 


	9. Eating Out, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double Entendre...

“There they were, half nekkid, appendages flailing, wrapping themselves around each other and sucking on each other like two wild octopi!”

[Originally posted by mametupa](https://tmblr.co/ZyiRRv1P3yPkp)

Jamie had already dreaded taking Murtagh out to lunch with Claire but in his wildest dreams he could not have thought this nightmare up— Murtagh regaling Claire with tales of once walking in on Jamie’s virginal experimentations with that blonde succubus, Laoghaire.

“And then when I’d been standing there for fully a minute,” Murtagh crowed with laughter, tears of mirth filling his eyes, “Jamie suddenly realizes I’m there, scrapes her off his lap and sits there meekly, as if they still had their shirts on, as if her bra wasna draped over the back of the couch and as if he wasna pitching a massive tent in his athletic shorts.” Murtagh giggled. “You could have housed an entire Scot Scout troop in there!”

[Originally posted by excitementshewrote](https://tmblr.co/Z0w6Kg2GmjR0u)

Jamie peeked over at Claire. While she was laughing along with Murtagh, in his experience he had found that few women wished to think of their partners with other girls.

“I agree Laoghaire was a dubious choice for a first girlfriend,” Jamie added. “Though I had to practice on someone, did I not?”

“Aye, lad,” Murtagh mused. “But I’m not sure if you wouldna ha’ been better off startin’ out with some other filly instead.”

Jamie sighed and shook his head. Honestly, he had very fond memories of Laoghaire’s body. What young man wouldn’t feel that way about their first pair of breasts? Laoghaire was just a little plump… and that meant she’d been soft. Soft and round, making Jamie delight in the perfect fit of her in his hands.

When she’d pulled him aside at his sixteenth birthday party, in the midst of cake and drinks and loud music and dancing teenagers, telling him she had a present for him but he needed to find a quiet place for her to give it to him, he hadn’t realized the gift would involve nudity and his first blow job. If he had, he might not have kept putting her off all evening.

She was a clinger, and he’d never really connected with her as a person. Laoghaire always managed to talk without being real, to communicate without truly saying anything. And she struck him as the kind of girl that if you showed her even a modicum of interest, you’d never be able to shake her.

That night he’d finally determined to just choose a place and time so that she’d stop following him like a depressed little lap dog. When they retreated to his bedroom, she latched the door, pulled her top off over her head, and stood in front of him in her bra, her skin covered with gooseflesh. She’d taken his hand and placed it on her breast.  Even though the lass couldn’t communicate her thoughts, there was no lack of clarity there…

When Murtagh had walked in on them, it was another time, shortly after the party, when Laoghaire had just as clearly let him know that he could HAVE her. He had been so excited, so ready…

“Thinking happy thoughts?” Claire joked as she peered at Jamie’s face. “It didn’t destroy your memory for Murtagh to walk in on you?”

_Fuck!_ Jamie thought.  _Why am I wasting a moment’s thought about Laoghaire? I didn’t love her and I never have._

“Christ, Lass, I was so confused after that. So turned on, so terrified. It was years before I brought another girl home.”

“But once he got over it, there were times I wondered whether he perchance got a bit of an adrenaline rush from being walked in on,” Murtagh mused. “That maybe he was bringing them home when he knew I would be arriving shortly on  _purpose_.”

Jamie glared at him. Now Murtagh really had gone too far. But what could he say in front of Claire?

 

They’d found a little bistro, sharing the roasted baby artichokes with artisan breads for starters, followed by massive salads made with greens from the garden prominently displayed in what had one been a vacant lot next door. Claire had gone with the roasted beet and goat cheese, whilst Jamie had increased the protein quotient of his meal by choosing the steak salad. And Murtagh—after gnawing through his share of the baby artichokes—had declared that he’d had more than his share of ‘green stuff’ for the day, and had ordered and consumed a massive grass-fed beef burger on brioche, hold the lettuce and tomato.

“Vegetables,” he declared confidently, “Are what my food eats!”

[Originally posted by olliethebun](https://tmblr.co/Zg27Nb2VE8HOp)

As the meal had gone by, Jamie had felt less and less certain that he would be able to be alone with Claire and yet more and more desperate to be with her. He thought on a few occasions that the wistful glances Claire sent in his direction telegraphed desire for him as well, though he wasn’t certain.

He subtly stroked her leg, then, and she shivered. Claire squeezed his hand under the table. When Jamie met her eyes, she smiled understandingly.

“Well, Murtagh,” she said, “It’s been delightful running into you, but Jamie and I were supposed to meet with… Rupert MacKenzie and his head writer Geillis Duncan.”

There was no such appointment. Jamie did his best to act nonchalant, as if he’d known of this item on their agenda all along, not just for the last ten seconds.

“Shall we take a taxi?” he asked. “Or is Rupert Mac sending a car?”

“I’ll call him,” she said, standing and excusing herself, after pulling a twenty and a five out of her wallet and laying them on the table.

“Now, Jamie, ye willna let the lassie pay, will ye?” Murtagh asked, once Claire had stepped over towards the garden. The two men watched as she went under the hops-covered trellis at the garden entrance and meandered through the garden on the narrow paths of white gravel.

“She is lovely, that one,” murmured Murtagh.

“Well, ye wouldn’t think it for how good a job you’re doing convincing her I’m a faithless lecher and a heartless beast,” Jamie grumbled. “Seriously, Murtagh, it’s as if you’ve decided that if you have to be celibate, well then everyone else has to be as well!”

“You know I’m quite aware you dinna actually have an appointment, don’t you?” Murtagh grinned cheekily. “So you can thank me for whatever plans the lass is making as we speak.”

“You bastard,” Jamie groaned, shaking his head.

“Do ye have protection?” his godfather asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Jamie responded. “How old do you think I am?”

“Has nothing to do with your age, wee man,” Murtagh said, looking at him from beneath bushy eyebrows, wiping ketchup from his beard as he spoke. “Has more to do with the loudness of your cock talking versus the volume of your wisdom… And if I’m gauging correctly…” He paused and shook his head as he watched Jamie staring at Claire. “Well, I’m quite certain which is currently in the lead.”

“Hush!” Jamie hissed, seeing Claire approaching towards them. “My cock may be loud, but you yourself ken the Boy Scout motto is “always be prepared!”

[Originally posted by ragerlifedotcom](https://tmblr.co/ZCHAwwwO1d9L)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betweensheetswriter just started a full time job   
> when do the rest of you write?  
>  Thank you Daniel Radcliffe for the grand finale   
> I didn't realize what he was doing when I first chose the gif.   
> Jamie x Claire   
> Sam x Cait   
> Murtagh   
> Outlander   
> fan fic   
> Lallybroch Library Prompt 33   
> Continued.   
> BetweenScenesWriter   
> Chemistry Test


	10. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to sexytown, Claire & Jamie get waylaid. NSFW.

“What did you say to Rupert?” Jamie asked. They were in the back of a cab heading downtown, the iconic New York skyline ahead of them. His heart was pounding.

[Originally posted by heartsnmagic](https://tmblr.co/ZdT_cl21xAjiS)

“That we wanted to run through our lines,” Claire answered. Her hand was on his thigh, warm and alive. It wasn’t just placed there, it was living— trembling with want, stroking him. He checked to see if the driver was looking at them knowingly.

Why couldn’t he catch his breath?

She was wearing a skirt, flirty and floral. When she’d sat down in the cab, it had hiked up to mid-thigh.

Like a teenager next to his girlfriend at the theater, Jamie looked out the window as he crept his fingers toward her leg, slid up and onto her thigh and pushed the fabric up higher, replacing it with his hand and stroking her perfect ivory skin. He could tell by her sharp intake of breath that he’d reached his target.

“The city is gorgeous, don’t you think?” She chattered, giving a running monologue as they stopped at street light after street light. Thank goodness the cab driver was focusing on the traffic.

_Grandmothers… Cold showers… Nursing homes… **Not** nuns… Roaches…! Why did they call them  **cock** roaches?_

He was hard, and he couldn’t help it. Just being with her did this to him—just the barest brush of her hand, the accidental touch of her breasts to his arm when she stood close to him—was enough to bring him painfully to attention. He didn’t know how long he could hold out.

[Originally posted by alm0131](https://tmblr.co/Z-cJbf2U4vlfQ)

“It’s this one,” Claire said, leaning forward and touching the cabbie on the shoulder. Jamie handed him cash—quite a bit more of a tip than was needed, to help erase his memory in case he’d seen more than he let on.

The building had gatekeepers that kept them from instantly ravishing each other on entry: a door man formally opening the door for Claire and nodding at Jamie and a woman at the reception desk in the foyer.

Jamie tried to see if by holding Claire’s hand he could put a barrier in front of prying eyes, but he only succeeded in causing her arm to brush up against him. Thank God she didn’t seem to notice. This felt too much like middle school, that age of puberty and awkwardness, unbidden erections, cracking voices, and devastating crushes.

But there was no one else when they entered the elevator, thank God. They stared at each other as the doors inched shut, and when the metal doors finally melded into one, so did they. Like their first meeting, Jamie crushed her in his arms for a passionate kiss. Like their first meeting, she threw her arms around his neck and leapt from the floor, gripping him with her legs.

Unlike their first meeting, when Jamie’s fingers stroked her where he would have expected panties, there were none. His eyes widened as he gently explored further, but his eyebrows shot up when he discovered something else was missing. Completely missing. Absent. Gone.

He pressed his lips to her ear. “You arna wearing any knickers,” he whispered.

“No,” she responded simply. “I’m not.”

“And your honeypot,” he added. “It’s bare!”

She giggled.

“When we were together before ye still had some …”

“I took care of it this time,” she explained. “I didn’t want any impediment,” she added, “because I want your mouth on me.”

He shivered as if a cold wind had just hit him.

At his touch her head had fallen back, exposing her neck. Her dress overlapped in front at the bust and it was the work of a moment to swipe the fabric to the side, after which he had his hand on her breast and her stiffening nipple in his mouth.

  


_Gifs of 1x08 from[@manders1984](https://tmblr.co/mrEZxYmJ-N9B7r8bbPCQ3kA)_

 

“God, does it ever stop? The wanting you?” he groaned.

The elevator bell chimed and the two tore themselves apart, quickly righting clothing and then standing chastely next to each other. A petite grandmotherly woman peeked in.

“Going up still?” She remarked in confusion. “I must have got the wrong button.”

She stepped out, and then Jamie and Claire waited for the interminably slow close of the doors, smiling sheepishly at each other.

This time, their touch was more tentative, as Jamie bent to kiss her gently on the lips. She stroked his check and jawline and stopped him from drawing away from her, seemingly reluctant to end the contact.

[Originally posted by lovemetwotimesbabyy](https://tmblr.co/ZT1rRv2MCz3B0)

“Oh, Jamie,”she whispered finally against his lips. As they drew apart, he noticed that her eyes were glistening with tears.

“Are ye all right?” he asked with concern. Had he rushed her? Had he misread her? Jamie reached to swipe a tear away with his thumb.

“Yes, finally,” she smiled, letting her breath out with a faint sigh. “I didn’t know it was possible to miss another human being so much.”

Jamie laughed. “You’re not kidding!” he mused. “It was like having a death in the family with you across the country from me. Something was just off… Just wrong.”

She lifted her face to him again, and he obliging lowered his lips to hers.

“Christ, Claire,” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

The elevator finally reached the 17th floor, and Claire took Jamie’s hand.

She was looking back at him with a sweet smile when his eyes widened in shock.

A voice behind Claire murmured cooly,

“Jamie Fraser. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine.”

[Originally posted by fantasticintotality](https://tmblr.co/ZLwFkm2X5rwAD)

His mouth was hanging open when Claire’s eyes left his face and turned to see a striking blonde standing in front of her.

“Geillis Duncan,” the woman said to Claire, offering her hand. “Well, that’s my writing name, at least.”

Claire looked back at Jamie, now gulping as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

“Claire,” he said, when he’d finally caught his breath. “Meet Laoghaire MacKenzie.”

[Originally posted by henricavyll](https://tmblr.co/ZmAZtn2RmbmBS)

[betweensceneswriter](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/betweensceneswriter) [jamie x claire](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/jamie-x-claire) [outlander](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/outlander) [alternate universe](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/alternate-universe)[fanfic](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfic) [betweensheetswriter](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/betweensheetswriter) [are you confused yet ?](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/are-you-confused-yet-%3F) [story crossover](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/story-crossover)   
[character meld](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/character-meld) [which one are you going to picture ?](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/which-one-are-you-going-to-picture-%3F) [oh dear !](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/oh-dear-%21)[what have i done ?](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/what-have-i-done-%3F) [chemistry test](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/chemistry-test) [hands off](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/hands-off)   
[I'm going to picture Laoghaire...](https://betweensceneswriter.tumblr.com/tagged/I%27m-going-to-picture-Laoghaire...)


	11. City View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotta have one more chapter... I'm kind of over this one. Trying to be funny gets wearying after a while, and you can only throw so many barriers between a couple before it exhausts you as much as it does them!

  


[Originally posted by sunbursts-and-marblehalls](https://tmblr.co/Ze6xBe2ONUbUq)

Claire casually crumbled a lavender blossom in her hand, then lifted her fingers to her nose, enchanted by the delicate fragrance.  The lavender-vanilla lemon water she’d had with her salad had been fabulous, probably infused with flowers from this very plant.  She noticed a row of healthy arugula, verdant and vigorous—quite possibly another source of her salad.

Now, what was Rupert saying?

“Well, we’re not certain the script will stay the same once we start filming in earnest.  But I do believe Geillis Duncan, our new head writer, has just been up on the 17th floor today wandering the halls to get the set firmly in her mind, so she can have a visual picture as she writes.  Of course she has access to our writers’ room and print shop.  I’ll tell her to expect the two of you, and she can pass off a script for you to run through… maybe the scene when Jackie Dawson meets Ross DeWitt Bukater.”

“Sounds good,” Claire answered, then added hesitantly, “So, Rupert, I noticed that my apartment has a second bedroom—a loft.  Is someone else living there with me?”

“Oh, no, lass…” Rupert was quick to reassure her. “We are aware that most actors and actresses need to get away from their coworkers.  But if you know anyone you could get along with who’d be willing to pay a wee bit o’ rent, that would be fine.  Just run it by Mrs. Fitz in HR.”

Perhaps she should have asked  _that_  question first, Claire mused as she walked back toward Jamie and Murtagh.  Now that they were meeting Geillis Duncan at the set, she had to go through with this whole charade when she could have just taken Jamie to her apartment.  

She sighed and tried to forgive herself.  Of course she was gun-shy after going to Jamie’s apartment ready to ravish him and finding Murtagh there.  She had considered her place but had wondered whether they would show up at  _her_  apartment only to be met at the door by Geneva Dunsany.  In their many conversations, she and Jamie had discussed their gut responses to the other actors from the show they had met, and neither was overly fond of the beautiful but icy brunette.

[Originally posted by outlandercreations](https://tmblr.co/ZpFegc2QXs79_)

Jamie had played along with her improv like a champ, but on her return to the table after her phone call Murtagh had winked at her.  “You could have just asked me to leave ye alone,” he said.

“And you  _would_  have?” she asked.  “With Jamie’s apartment smelling like burnt haggis and you having just surprised your nephew by moving cross country to be with him?”

Murtagh grinned sheepishly. “Well, now that you put it that way…”

Claire smiled. “Actually,” she offered, “You said you needed to find a place to stay?  I have an additional bedroom in my apartment, if you want to stay there while you look.”

As Jamie and Murtagh both stared at her in astonishment, Claire laughed.  “Well, you don’t have to take me up on it,” she said.

“The two of you should go and do your practicing, and I’ll go back to Jamie’s place,” Murtagh said, after a warning glare from his nephew.  “We can talk over the particulars later.”

Jamie drove her mad with the way he touched her during the ride to their studio building and with his kisses and caresses in the elevator.  And then the doors had opened.

[Originally posted by sassenach4life](https://tmblr.co/ZuSpOl27WkGGU)

She’d mentioned that Geillis would meet them, crossing her fingers that the writer wouldn’t insist on staying. But this, Claire thought, as she tried to not let Geillis/ Laoghaire notice her staring at Jamie’s first pair of boobs, was not what she had expected at all.  

[Originally posted by sassenachclairefraser](https://tmblr.co/ZkOipd2Y1F9hs)

Geilaoghaire glanced up at Jamie with a glint in her green cat eyes.

Jamie stuttered, “What are you doing here?”

When she spoke again, Claire could hear the faint Scottish accent in Geilaoghaire’s voice.

“I might ask you the same thing,” the woman said, “Except I  _ken_  what you are doing here.  Rupert has been begging me to work on a project with him for years.   _Get Jamie Fraser as your male lead_ , I told him,  _and I’ll join as your head writer.”_

[Originally posted by lotteverbeekitalia](https://tmblr.co/ZcNCBi2SirSbF)

She turned to Claire with a gleam in her eye.  “This boy had been special to me for years.” She smiled and side-eyed Jamie.  “He was my  _first_ , you see,” she murmured, a suggestive smile playing around her lips.

Jamie looked extremely uncomfortable, utterly dumbfounded by Laoghaire’s reappearance in his life.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Geilaoghaire said with a sly smile.  “Here is the script snippet Rupert asked if I’d share.” She handed a sheaf of paper to each of them.  “It’s when Ross first meets Jackie.  He’s had a horrible fight with Calista Hockley, and he flees to the staff room where Jackie is sneaking a cup of coffee.  She tells him the executive lounge is the only place that there’s good coffee and they make fun of Calista together because Jackie doesn’t yet realize that Ross is the vice president and that Calista isn’t his boss, she’s his girlfriend.”

Claire blinked at the papers in her hands as the blonde woman traded positions with them and entered the elevator.

“Just remember,” Geilaoghaire warned, “Leoch Pictures has an non-fraternization clause in their actor contracts.  It really detracts from production for our actors to fall in and out of love with each other.”

Jamie and Claire stared after her as the metal doors slowly closed.

“Save it for the screen,” she cooed, winking at Jamie.

When the digital panel above the elevator started counting downward, they finally turned toward each other.

“God, and here I thought  _I_  was a stalker,” said Claire.

“What do you mean?” Jamie asked her curiously.  He hesitantly took her hand and led her down the hall, stopping to open different doors and peek into the rooms: writers room, lunch room, and a few large conference rooms set up as sound stages with three-walled sets.

Claire followed quietly, hoping Jamie would forget his question.  

Finally they arrived at the executive  break room. Jamie went through the cupboards, finding coffee grounds and filters and making messy work of getting a pot of coffee started.

“We never did get our coffee this morning.  And this prop will be for added realism,” he explained, grabbing his script and coming to sit by her on the couch.  They were several feet apart, not only separated by the space between them but also the uncomfortable specter of Laoghaire and a non-fraternization clause.

“We’ve been open with each other so far, Claire,” said Jamie.  “Let’s not stop now. What did you mean when you said you thought  _you’d_ been a stalker.” He was smiling, but his face was a mixture of humor and confusion.

[“ _Island Fever_ ,”](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tinyurl.com%2Fisland-fever-2018&t=MGJhZWQ3NDA1MDBmODQ1ZDA0NmJhN2MzNDRlNDg4YzAwNzY3NWFiZSxZOVVPU2dUeA%3D%3D&b=t%3ApBABLT-VvOvXHhVWaraIIg&p=https%3A%2F%2Fbetweensceneswriter.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F175211895832%2Fchemistry-test-part-11-city-view) she admitted sheepishly.  “I watched it and fell in love with Campbell MacReid… and I had a feeling I would like the actor who played him as well.”

“Ah,” Jamie said with a smile. “That doesna disturb me.  Nothing like seeing Laoghaire when that elevator door opened.”

Claire scooted closer to him, reaching for his hand.

“You asked me before, that first day, if you thought the universe was trying to tell us something,” she spoke hesitantly, staring at their linked hands as they caressed each other.

“I recall,” Jamie said. “And your response was that the universe was telling me I’d forgotten my wallet and that I hadn’t expected to have sex that day.”

She laughed ruefully, then said with a sigh, “I think I was wrong to make light of it.  Seriously.  That first day with all the impediments in our way, and then today… with the miscommunication about the coffee place, then Murtagh, now Laoghaire… Or Geillis… Or Geilaoghaire… I think we need to take a good look at our motivations and goals here. We should consider it seriously,” she said.

“Fine,” Jamie said. “But first, come with me.”

She followed him down the hallway to the corner office, noting from the obviously decadent set dressing that it must be Ross’s. A huge mahogany desk faced floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city.  Jamie sat down in the big office chair and reached his hand out to her, taking her in his arms and pulling her into his lap.

[Originally posted by justfollowyourdreams](https://tmblr.co/ZGLDzd2Sr9xXP)

“Come here,” he said, drawing her toward him, his hand behind her head. He kissed her and then drew back, his blue eyes clearly focused on her.

“I’m thirty-four,” Jamie said. “Not married, no children.  I may love acting, but if I had to choose between a life of glamour and Hollywood parties and red carpets… and you, Claire? I’d choose you.”

She gazed at him, clear-eyed. “How can you  _know_? This is only the second day we’ve been together.”

“You stepped into my life, Claire, and it just felt  _right_ ,” Jamie said.  “Magical. Natural. And I will not promise to stay away from you if that’s where our hearts choose to take us.”

“Even with the clause?” she asked.

“We willna sign it. We will tell them we’re together already.”

“And if they don’t like it? Fuck the show,” she said. “We can get other jobs.”

“Marry me,” he said. “Today. Or next week.  Whenever we can make it official.”

Claires eyes widened, and then she laughed.  “One crazy night when we were both drunk, Frank and I looked up which states don’t have a waiting period for getting married, where you can get the license immediately and get married immediately as well.  Boston is in Massachusetts which has a three-day waiting period to get the license, and New York requires 24 hours between license and ceremony.  But Connecticut has immediate licenses, and you can walk down the hall to the Justice of the Peace and have him marry you right then. Connecticut is at most two hours away.”

“You’re not kidding…” Jamie said. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to do it on a desk…” Claire grinned.

Jamie’s eyes widened, and he nodded.  “Well, you’re not likely to need that dress on, so…”

  



End file.
